


title (or lack thereof)

by hellorglory



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, M/M, My first Andtrick, Or "Hump" ;), disregard that, jk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:19:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8107438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellorglory/pseuds/hellorglory
Summary: "It just confuses me, kind of. 
Seeing you all act so giddy and excited and stuff on stage. 
I mean, I don't want any more attention than I already have on stage, or anything. 
It's like I just get jealous of you... being so happy. It's weird."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesbianpatrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianpatrick/gifts).



> For PansexualPancakes cuz I'm their stalker and they're being super nice to me so yeah I'm watching you right now  
> (Also I loved flowerboy omg)  
> Also kudos to them because I can't do fantasy-type of AU's for shit  
> —  
> No prompts today! Just something I randomly thought of while watching Jacksfilms which makes absolutely no sense because he's a comedian kinda sorta okay bye

"So, how are you?" Patrick asked, tipping the container of creamer into his dark coffee, using a straw to stir the liquids around. He glanced up at Andy for a few seconds, who was currently sitting at the small breakfast bar, his elbow propped up on the counter, his face leaning into his palm. He blew a strand of hair out of his view as he shrugged, the hair stubbornly cascading into its previous position along with a few followers. Patrick smiled. It was a rare occasion to see Andy with bedhead; he never went out without an entire bottle of gel dolloped onto his hair. At the moment, they had a big break—well, big compared to their previous tours—so they had decided to drive the rest of the way to the town the next show was located and stay there until the very day of that show. Patrick sighed and turned around, leaning against the counter as he continued to stir the coffee lazily.

"That's okay," he said, gripping the hotel's styrofoam cup harder until he realized it might burst, his hand loosening its grasp. He let out a heavy breath, cooling himself down. "Are you sure?" Andy was always like this; he never talked much unless required, always using body language to communicate, and the band rarely saw him, excluding shows.  Andy stared at him for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing, scrutinizing Patrick's face closely. Patrick felt a bit intimidated and uncomfortable under his gaze, shifting his body weight from each foot nervously. He decided to just sit down, his movement startling Andy into looking away quickly. Patrick sucked the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, staring at his coffee that continued to swirl around despite the straw lying limply to the side, as if the liquid itself held the answers to all of Andy's life secrets. He didn't like Andy like this. He used to be better—before the hiatus. He wasn't like Pete or anything, that was definitely true, but he still talked a bit, making a few jokes every now-and-then. He used to be Fall Out Boy's rock; always keeping the boys from wrestling each other to death. Especially Pete. Now he was just anxious all the time, keeping to himself. Perhaps it was because their genre's switched up a bit, all pop and news and less of the hardcore underground scene. Andy shook his head, as if responding to Patrick's thoughts.

"Want some coffee, at least?" Patrick looked up from his own cup, cocking his head to the side to get a better view of Andy's hanging one.

"I'm okay," Andy insisted, leaning back in his chair, gripping the edge of his seat warily. Patrick nodded, worrying his lip. Behind Patrick, he heard stomping and heavy panting, and he turned around, seeing Joe and Pete bent over, their hands on their knees as they coughed and choked on their own breath. Patrick rolled his eyes and slumped down in his chair, already tired of their shit just by looking at them; and Joe hadn't even put Pete into a headlock, yet. Patrick turned back around and shrugged in response to Andy's statement.

"'Kay," he agreed, taking a slow sip from his coffee, eyeing Andy all-the-while. He was about to open his mouth to add something, when Andy interrupted him.

"It gets sort of annoying, y'know?" Andy clarified, looking pass Patrick thoughtfully, as if he wasn't even speaking to Patrick but to himself. Patrick was about to ask him to elaborate on that when he continued. "It just confuses me, kind of. Seeing you all act so giddy and excited and stuff on stage. I mean, I don't want any more attention than I already have on stage, or anything. It's like I just get jealous of you... being so happy. It's weird." Behind him, Patrick could hear his two bandmates approaching.

"Okay," Patrick said, simply, hating himself for not saying anything more, hating that he didn't have anything to say anyways, hating that Andy was like this. Not that it was Andy's fault. It was no one's fault. But he was still extremely confused. He knitted his eyebrows together, pressing his lips into a tight line in concentration. "I don't—"

"Hey, Veggie!" Pete exclaimed, stealing a chair from a separate table and turning it around so that the back faced inwards toward the two. He sat down, folding his legs around the back and kicking the legs lazily. "What're you talking about?" Andy looked at him for a bit before swiveling his head towards Patrick, as if saying 'What're you gonna say?' through his eyes. Patrick stared into them for a bit, confused and still mildly interested in the previous conversation. He turned to Pete nonetheless.

"Nothing," Patrick hummed in response, sipping his coffee cup. Soon, Joe joined them, a large cup of coffee in his hands, steam rolling off his lips as he drank the scalding liquid and Patrick was surprised he didn't drop it in shock. He looked back at Andy, who was staring at his hands, seemingly more interested in the creases drumsticks have left there than the comic book conversation Pete and Joe were currently sharing. That was weird, Patrick thought. Patrick attempted to shoo the thoughts away, nodding to everything his bandmates' were saying, pretending to be interested, when, in reality, all he could think about was Andy's explanation of what was 'sort of annoying'.

_"I just get jealous of you being so happy..."_

—

When the show finally arose, Patrick made a point of talking to Andy before they were called out to begin. He cornered him behind the rack of Joe's guitars, his eyebrows creased in worry, his lips raw and swollen from biting at them the night before. He had told Pete that it was just nerves. For the show. Not Andy. Andy's eyes widened when Patrick had jogged up to him, backing against the rack nervously. Patrick felt hurt, like Andy was afraid of him.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for not talking more about the other day and—"

"No, no. It's alright. But we kind of need to go, now, so, like—" Andy tried to explain, but Patrick knew they had plenty more time than Andy was letting on.

"No, really. I just wanted to know if I could help, or something. Like get a professional or a therapist or whatever you need or want or whatever, I honestly don't know—" Patrick would've been pissed if Andy kept interrupting him during a normal day, but he was too worried to care at that point.

"No!" Andy practically shouted, throwing his arms in front of him protectively. Patrick's eyes widened and he backed up instinctively, raising his hands to emphasize that he had stopped talking. Andy lowered his voice, suddenly realizing what he had done. "I-I'm sorry. I just... I hate talking about it, y'know? The less people bring it up, the better it gets, I guess. Sometimes I forget that I'm, like, like this, and I act normal, kind of." Patrick stared at him for a bit before resting his hand on Andy's forearm protectively. Andy flinched before relaxing into Patrick's grip.

"Okay," Patrick said.

"Okay," Andy added.


End file.
